Unwell
by Vermilion Angel
Summary: Sammy is sick, Dean takes care of him. Short fluff.


Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no money. Thanks to Clare for the beta!! Please R&R, constructive critisism welcome xx

**I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just A Little Unwell  
**

Sam mumbled something incoherent and pawed at the white bandage on his head. Dean walked over and caught his hand. Feeling how cold it was, he tucked it under the covers. Sam was on strong painkillers after being knocked around by a spirit, and had been semi-conscious for the best part of the day. He would become more alert as the painkillers wore off, but only long enough for Dean to give him some more. Dean was sitting on his bed, watching daytime TV.

"Mnah…"

Dean had been trying to ignore the craziness his brother was periodically spouting.

"Dean?"

Dean turned his head so he could see his brother "Yeah?"

"I think it's falling."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to the TV "Oh."

"No… it's falling!" Sam insisted, his eyes were open and he was staring blankly at the ceiling

"What's falling?"

"The Romans…"

"The Romans are falling?"

"What?"

Dean sighed, "Go to sleep Sam."

"It's falling."

Dean shut his eyes "I caught it, Sam, go to sleep."

"Oh…"

Dean looked at Sam, who was still staring into space, confused. He flicked through the channels again, eventually settling on a cheap horror film. Sam seemed to drift off to sleep. About half an hour into the film someone was attacked by a 'werewolf'. There was much blood and even more screaming.

"Dean?!" Sam sat up in bed and looked around glassily.

Dean muted the TV. "Hey, calm down," he said, pushing his brother back down

"I heard screaming." Sam's speech was sort of slurred, an effect of sleep and medication. "You ok?"

"It was just the TV," Dean replied. Sam nodded. "You ready for some more pills?"

"No," Sam said, relaxing "Can I… drink please?"

Dean nodded. Sam seemed to be more in touch with reality which usually meant time for more pills. "Sure thing." He went and got a fresh glass of water and brought it back. Sam took it shakily and sipped a bit.

"You think you can eat something?"

"Train?"

"Actually, I was thinking something more conventional, like toast"

Sam raised his eyebrows "That's what…I said?"

"Uh, no…"

"Goddammit," Sam sighed. "My head feels… like… something"

"Cotton?"

"Yeah," Sam said sheepishly, handing back the glass. "Sorry"

"What for?"

"Pain in the ass, huh?"

"You're always a pain in the ass," Dean replied. "I'll make you some food." He arranged the pillows so Sam was sitting upright. He went to the tiny kitchenette and started rattling around.

"Dean…?"

"What?"

"Uh, I need to get up…"

Dean pushed the button down on the toaster and walked back, helping his brother to his feet, then towards the bathroom

"You gonna be ok?"

Sam nodded, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

"Don't lock the door."

Dean went back and collected the toast, putting it on a plate and buttering it. Sam opened the door of the bathroom and limped out, leaning on everything as he made his way back to bed. Dean watched him, then picked up the plate of toast and walked over, holding Sam's arm and easing him down

"Thanks."

Dean sat on the edge of the bed. "You think you can keep this down this time?"

Sam nodded. "I'll try." He settled down in bed, hissing in pain as he jarred his ribs

"Hey, hey… easy Sammy," Dean soothed, putting the toast on the side and helping Sam sit up straight again. "Slow down"

Sam forced a smile. "Sorry."

Dean rearranged the pillowed and eased him back.

"Thanks," Sam sighed.

"You don't have to keep thanking me."

"Sorry."

"And stop saying sorry."

Sam frowned, "Sor… uh…"

Dean shook his head and handed back the toast. "Eat."

"I can't believe you… being so patient." Sam said, biting a small corner and chewing.

"What do you mean by that?" Dean said with mock indignation. He knew full well he wasn't the most patient guy in the world. "You've only been out of hospital three days."

Sam took another bite "Three days?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded solemnly. He looked Sam over. He was still too pale, still too weak. He should _still_ be in hospital. But Sam had insisted, and there was no way Dean could resist the hangdog expression Sam had given him.

Sam gasped as pain shot up his body. He dropped the toast onto the bedcover.

"Sam?"

Sam scrunched up his face and took a few deep, pained breaths. Dean took his hand and pressed four tiny pills into his hand.

"Here."

"No…"

"Come on Sammy," Dean coaxed. "Don't try and tell me you're not hurting."

Sam took a deep breath and looked up, his eyes watering. "Give me a second."

Dean frowned. "Sam…"

"No just…" Sam forced another smile. "Eat first, the pills make me sleep"

Dean nodded. "Alright, but don't force yourself."

"Got to eat."

"I know."

Sam picked up the toast and brushed away the crumbs. He took a tentative bite and looked up at Dean. "You gonna sit and watch?"

Dean half-smiled and moved off the bed. "Just wanted to make sure you're ok."

Sam ate silently and carefully. Dean laid back on his own bed and unmated the TV. The truth was, he had been so terrified by the last hunt that he was happy to just take care of his brother, at least for now. In a week or so, the feeling would wear off and they'd be at one another's throats, but for now, he was just too happy that Sam was alive.

Dean glanced at the clock, 8pm and it had been raining all week. A crash of thunder heralded another storm. Sam swallowed the tablets he'd been given and then started on the other piece of toast.

Dean looked over at Sam, whose head was drooping onto his chest. He got off the bed and walked over, then gently moved him forward, rearranged the pillows, then laid Sam down.

"Mmm… cougars…"

Dean laughed. "Man, I don't want to know." He walked away, but was stopped by a frightened yelp.

"Dean?!"

"What?"

"Sick…"

Dean got there quickly and Sam gagged, Dean helped him up and to the bathroom where Sam vomited into the toilet. Sam braced his arm over his ribs, which burned every time he retched.

"Oh god…"

Dean held hip up so he didn't collapse face first into the bowl and used his free hand to rub circles on Sam's back. "It's ok Sammy…"

"It… hurts…"

"I know, I know…" Dean grimaced. Every time Sam vomited it wrenched his wounds and increased the pain. On top of that, Sam had taken his pills already and was probably vomiting them back up right now, which meant no more pills for another four hours.

"I'm sorry Sam…"

Sam was practically asleep on Dean's shoulder, exhausted from throwing up.

"Come on Sammy, off the floor"

"Falling…"

Dean sighed. "We've had this conversation Sammy."

"I'm… gonna fall…"

Dean shook his head and rubbed his hand up and down Sam's shoulder. "You're not gonna fall. I've got you"

"Fall…"

"No you're not, not while I have a breath left in my body."

"Keep breathing," Sam sighed and passed out on Dean's shoulder.

"I intend to," Dean replied, pulling Sam to his feet and struggling with him back to the bed. When Sam was safely sleeping, Dean watched him for a while.

While on the hunt, Dean had killed the creature only to find Sam facedown in the mud, bleeding profusely. He had woken up long enough for Dean to get him to the car, but passed out on the way to the hospital. He had been in surgery for three hours while Dean cleaned the blood and dirt out of the Impala, for no better reason than to give him something to do. Sam had then been in hospital the best part of two weeks. The first week he was barely conscious, then in the second he was showing marked improvement.

Sam was now asleep, though his brow was furrowed and his eyes screwed shut. He was in pain, but there was nothing Dean could do. He couldn't risk Sam overdosing, so he would have to suffer. The pain didn't seem too bad, which meant at least some of the painkiller was in his system.

"Sleep well, geek," Dean said, wiping away some of the hair that had become plastered on his brother's head. Sam mumbled something and then moaned, shifting a little. "I'll look after you," confident his brother was so out of it that he couldn't hear. He sat back on his bed and started flicking through the channels again.

"It's not human," Sam said, "kill it!"

A smile played across Dean's lips. "You kill it."

"Don't wanna," Sam replied sulkily.

"If I kill it, will you go to sleep?"

"Mnh."

Dean looked over with a raised eyebrow. "Ok, I killed it, happy?"

"Thanks Dean… you're the best."

Dean smirked "Yeah, I know."


End file.
